Whats in a Crew?
by ScarletRosePetal
Summary: That which we call a crew with any other captain would work as hard.  So Jack's crew would if it were not Jack's crew at all.  Fresh out of Tortuga, they all wish for a new start.  They all have a dark, painful story...
1. Cotton

**This is a new idea that was inspired by an amazing writer, mypiratecat1, and her story, The Sign above the Door, which was a spin-off from her absolutely amazing story, Thicker than Water. Which I think you should all go read.**

**During Pirates of the Caribbean, you don't learn much about the crew. You know that they are pirates, and that's about it. This explains each man's story of what pushed him into the fate of becoming a part of the Black Pearl. Please enjoy!**

* * *

"Give nothin' back!" I exclaimed, Jack and I slamming our mugs against each others'. I swallowed the rum in about one gulp, and wished there was more. There really was never enough for me these days. 

"Excuse me, mate." Jack said, his drink finished. "The whelp and I need to find a place to stay for the night." He stood up and walked toward the kid standing in the doorway. He seemed like a bit of a stick to me, but there's always more to every person you meet. Every riff-raff has their own story. After Jack left, I began to set up a table that was widely known in Taverns like this- A recruting table. Within a few minutes of my sitting there, a line had formed in front of the table. Good ole Tortuga. The man in the front of the line stood tall, with a Parrot sitting on his shoulder.

"Why would you like to join the crew?" I asked. The parrot answered my question.

"Raarrwwrgg! Sail the seas! Sail the seas!" It squawked.

* * *

I wasn't always unable to speak. Years ago, I had my own life and my own family. I beautiful wife, Susan, and a son, Jack, they were my pride and joy. I was a shoekeeper on an island just south of Tortuga. It wasn't very large, but it was very beautiful. Less than a decade before my time, natives were prominent on the island. I had heard stories that they were brutally forced from their land, but I'd never believed them. They had their own side of the island...they didn't bother us, and we didn't bother them. We thought there was nothing to worry about. As a shoekeeper, I made enough money to get by. It wasn't the best job or pay, but I loved working with the other people that worked there- they were the best people they could be. I didn't live a fairytale life, but there wasn't anything I'd want to change about it. 

I still remember the night when everything changed. There's no possible way to forget it. Nothing during the day would have suggested that my world would end. It seemed perfect- perfect weather, a good amount of sales, I never felt like anything was going to happen. When I headed back home, once, only once did I feel any sort of negative feeling. I thought I'd heard a rustle in the leaves. But of course, the wind blew right afterward, so I pushed the idea out of my mind. How I wish I hadn't done so.

"Hullo!" I chimed walking into the door my my house.

"Well, hello yourself." Susan greeted me with a kiss. Jack appeared out of nowhere, or so it seemed, and gave me a hug.

"How'd sales do t'day?" He asked. Bless his heart, he was only seven back then and he'd cared about the sales. I remember my wife and I laughing.

"Good today." I said. "How's dinner comming?" I asked.

"All ready." The answer came. After dinner when Jack was in bed, I myself was starting to get tired. I started to get ready for bed when I heard someone yelling outside. I walked toward the window and looked out. The natives were screaming and running through our streets, weapons in hand. I backed away from the window and ran into Susan.

"Whats going on?" She asked, fear penetrating through her voice.

"Go get Jack and both of you stay in the house." I said running toward the front door. I grabbed whatever I could get my hands on, tables, chairs, furniture, all of it baracading the door. I wasn't fast enough. The door bust down as I was stuggling to keep them out. They brutally pushed me out of the way and tied my hands behind my back. "NO!" I screamed as they began to search the house for anything they could get their hands on. I didn't care about my things; I didn't have many anyway. Susan and Jack were still here! A few minutes after their scavanging, They appeared with both of them, Jack thrown over their shoulder and Susan dragged behind. They threw my little son down on the dirt. He was covered in blood and not moving. He was dead. Tears began to fall from my eyes as I saw Susan. She was crying histerically and a lot of blood was comming from her as well.

"What have you done?!" I yelled at the men. They turned to me.

"It was done to our people when you came." They glared at me. "We are doing it to you." I had never expected them to be able to speak english.

"You can't do this!" I screamed again.

"We can and we will!" They retorted triumphantly. "Silence from you. Or you'll never speak again." I opened my mouth to yell at them, when a loud sob came from Susan. They glared down at her with a look of superiorty and then did the worst thing I could imagine. They began to beat her. Her body was already weak enough, and she began to bleed more from their work.

"STOP!" I yelled as they held me back. They ignored me and didn't stop until she stopped moving. She was gone...

"We told you not to talk." They spat at me. "You'll pay." One of them pulled out a knife, and those were my last words spoken.

* * *

That was twenty years ago. I'd tried so many ways to turn my life around and nothing had worked. Maybe pirate was the way to go...only one way to find out. Looking down at the paper I was about to sign, I noticed the captain's name. Captain Jack Sparrow. Jack. I missed my son. But there was nothing to do but go forward. I picked up the pen and slowly wrote my name. _George L. Cotton._

* * *

"Thank-You." I said, staring at the parrot sitting on the man's shoulder. 'I wonder what his story is.' I couldn't help but think. 'It couldn't be worse than mine.' I thought sadly. Shaking my head, I brought myself back to the task at hand. "Who's next?" I asked. 


	2. Marty

I looked around.

"Who's next?" I repeated.

"I'm right here." The voice came. I stood up and looked down. A rather short man was standing at the table, and I immediately felt bad for saying what I did. "Oh, right." I sat back down. "Why would you like to join the crew?" I asked.

"There's not much else I can do." He said sadly. "But I've been on ships before, and I know what all needs to be done and how to do it."

* * *

Throughout my life, I've been normal for three years. And then I turned four. When I should have been growing like everyother child, I didn't. I haven't grown since I was eight years old. And my seven year old neice is taller than I am. Or I know she was a year ago when she was six. 

My parents knew something was wrong when my younger brother, by four years, surpassed me. By the time I was seven, and the size of a three year old, they knew I would never be 'normal'. And they weren't proud to call me their own.

Whenever I would go out in public, people would stare. Or they would treat me like a little child. No one understood that on the inside I was perfectly normal. No one could get past my height. My face would mature, but my height would stay at the same age. By the time I was fifteen, I was as tall as I would ever get; I was the size of a child.

My family never showed me true kindness. My father hardly talked to me, and never acknowledged me in public. He was too proud of his name to let a screwed up child ruin it. My mother was one of the others. The ones that treated me like a baby. I remember on my thirteenth birthday I wanted to down and talk to Trae, a bartender, in a local tavern. He was the only person who'd ever shown me kindness. And I had considered him my best friend. He was an old man; he was dark skinned and french. When he talked you could still hear his old accent. Whenever I needed someone to talk to, he was there. We were two one of a kinds around Tortuga. He was black, I was a dwarf; we were both considered weird. On my birthday, I considered myself more than capable of walking there myself. But no; my mother didn't agree. She forced me to have my brother, 9 years old, escort me there.

My brother. He was the worst of all. He picked on me constantly, and he often times did so physically. I had countless bruises all over myself because of him. If I ever tried to fight back, he would go running to our parents saying that I tried to start a fight with him. And I would get in trouble.

On one of these days, when I was fifteen, I ran down to the tavern where Trae worked. I just wanted to be around someone who understood being alone in a crowd. I climbed up to my usual seat at the bar, but Trae wasn't behind it. Some other man was there.

"Where's Trae?" I asked him. He looked at me as everyone else did, and hesitated to answer.

"I'm sorry son. He died last night in his sleep." He walked away to serve the paying customers. I sat in silence, my body refusing to move. The only person who'd ever understoon me was gone. I was completely alone.

"Marty!" I heard my brother yelling my name. "Get back to the house! You can't be here by yourself." He found me sitting on the stool and brutally pulled me down. I landed face first onto the floor, and he laughed. That was the end of it for me. I stood up, punched him as hard as I could in the gut and ran. I wasn't sure where I was going to go, but there was no way I was going back to a place where no one cared. I took a left; a right; and another left When I finally looked where I was, I had ended up at the docks. I finally stopped running and tried to catch my breath.

"You there!" I heard someone yell. I looked around, and finally found the source of the voice up aloft on a ship.

"Me, sir?" I yelled back.

"Yes. I dropped me splicing knife, and ye'r younger than I am. Would ye get it and bring it up to me?" He asked.

"Sure." I yelled, climbing up the gangplank and onto the deck. I looked around and found the knife.

"Now just head for those ratlines, they'll lead you right up here." He said. I grabbed the ropes, and found that I could easily haul myself up. I finally reached the man and handed him the knife.

"Thank You." He said, taking it. "I'm getting a little old. Takes a lot of effort for me to climb up and down the lines constantly. Call me Drake."

"I'm Marty, and your welcome." I said. "Now, how do I get down from here?" I asked. He laughed.

"Stick around for a minute or two, and I'll be done with this. I'll show ye down." He cut away at the ropes, tightened them, and tied them together. "Follow me." He said, holding the blade between his teeth and desending the ropes. It was a rather dificult job for me, with as short as I was, but we finally stopped on the deck. Then I started to get an idea.

"Sir, do you have enough help on the ship?" I asked.

"Ye want a position?" He asked, seeing right through me. I smiled an nodded. Finally, someone else was treating me like an equal. "I won't ask why ye want it, every man's got his own reasons, but would ye take a job as a cabin boy? Ye seem about the age for it."

"Fifteen, sir." I said.

"Good. That's a good age. Welcome to the crew lad." He shook my hand, and I was amazed. I had a job to get out of this place. And not once did he say a thing about my size. Maybe it's a sign to be a sailor...

I joined the crew, which turned out to be pirates, and fell in love with the lifestyle. I grew up (though not literally) on the decks of that ship, and for years it was all I knew. But of course, the captain, for that 's who it was that I met, grew older as well. When he died, I had to get away. It was painful, so I had the crew drop me off on the closest island, which turned out to be Tortuga. I knew it wouldn't last long though, and I'd soon be part of another crew.

* * *

I picked up the pen and stood on the tips of my toes to be able to clearly sign my name. I had come into the tavern for old memories, for it was the same old place where Trae had worked. It was hard being here again, but I couldn't change the past. Just the future. I wrote my name in the second space. _Martin Andrew Klebba.

* * *

_I watched the shortest man I'd ever seen walk away and I had to think that he'd been a charachter to watch. Despite his size, he seemed confident and brave. He seemed like worthy Gentleman o' Fortune. "Who's next?" I asked. 


	3. AnnaMaria

**Sorry its taking so long to update this story! Here's the next chapter...**

**Just a note, this one is completely from my mind. The story might seem slightly familiar if you've read The Legend of Captain Jack Sparrow...anywho...on with the story!**

* * *

I looked up at the person standing in front of me. A woman? No, no...it was a man. Or was it? I wasn't completely sure. 

"Why would ye like to join the crew?" I asked. He...she...it (whatever it was) took a moment before answering.

"Jack and I go pretty far back." _It _said.

* * *

I knew Jack Sparrow would end up in Tortuga. So, when I saw him walking down the street with his usual drunken gait, I wasn't surprised in the least. I followed him into the Tavern, resolving to give him a piece of my mind. I was so mad at him, and I had every reason to be. 

I grew up with a pretty good family in England. My mother, my father, and my sister. My sister, Lola. I missed her a lot. We were as close as sisters could be even though she was eight years older than I. We would spend hours on end talking about anything and everything that crossed our minds. She was my best friend; I loved her more than life itself.

Neither of us, despite our decent predicaments, were happy with our lives. It was nice, but so _orderly_. There was no excitement at all! Everyday seemed the same, and it was, until Lola turned 18. I still remember the day perfectly. She smiled and seemed so happy until she and I escaped upstairs at the end of the day. She sat silently for what seemed like hours before she turned to me gravely.

"If I were to tell you something, would you promise to tell absolutely no one." She asked.

"Of course!" I replied.

"I mean with your life. You can't tell anyone. Not even Father or Mum." She said again. I nodded. She took a deep breath. "I signed with a Pirate ship this morning." My mouth flew open.

"Really?" I asked. I couldn't believe that she would do such a thing. Our parent detested pirates.

"I'm leaving this week, and I told Father and Mum that I was leaving for the Caribbean to be a teacher." She said.

"But you're not." I said.

"I know." She smiled slightly.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because I'm sick of nothing." She said. "I'm tired of doing the same thing over and over again. I want a little excitement, and I know I can get excitement on the ship." She explained.

"What ship?" I asked.

"It's called the Black Pearl." And the Black Pearl it was. She left two days later, and for years I heard nothing of her or the ship. I grew up, missing her terribly, and started to feel what she had said. I was sick of the nothingness of my life. When I turned 17, seven years after she had left, I decided I was going to do the same thing she did. And so I told my parents I was going to go to the Caribbean to find Lola and better opportunities. And I leflt. I booked a passage to the Caribbean, resolving to find Lola and her ship and sign with them. When I arrived in Tortuga, I only had to mention the Black Pearl to heard it all. About how amazing a ship it had become, and how the crew was deemed immortal. I had thought it was because they were an amazing group of people, and I'd thought my sister was among them.

I asked everyone of my sister, but only one peroson could say anything about her. A bubbly woman in a clothing store told me that my sister, who had become known as 'Cutlass-Lo', used to stop in Tortuga often, but she hadn't seen her in years. It started to worry me, but I'd figured they'd found better ports to stop at. Tortuga wasn't quite a fun place to be. It was that night, after I'd talked with the clothing store woman, that I first met Jack Sparrow.

Jack Sparrow. He wasn't too much older than me, and from the beginning, there was somthing about him. Something that seemed...off. He was a strage man, but he didn't care what people thought of him. He was just...Jack. I started talking with him after he heard me mention the Black Pearl. We started to talk about it, and I learned that he was once a part of it. It was then that I asked him of my sister.

"Your sister?" He questioned.

"Yes. My sister. Lola."

"Lola." He stopped. "You're Lola's sister?" He asked.

"I am. You know her?!" I asked, hoping I'd finally know where to find her.

"Aye. I knew 'er." He looked away from me.

"You _knew _her?" I questioned. He wasn't saying...

"Anna-Maria. I'm sorry, but..." I bit my tongue. I knew what was comming "...she's been gone for years." He said slowly. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest, and I stopped breathing.

"She's dead?" I asked. Jack nodded mournfully and I cried my eyes out that night. My sister was gone. Jack left Port Royal later that week, but we kept in touch. Despite his daftness, we were pretty good friends, though nothing more than that. I lived off and on in Tortuga for the next few years. No where seemed quite right, and I couldn't go back to England to face my parents. It would be too hard.

I bought myself a dingy to use when I traveled. It wasn't the ship I'd originally planned to sign on with, but I liked her. I named her the _Jolly Mon, _and she served her purpose well enough. About a month after I bought her, I heard word that Jack was comming. Sure enough, the next day he appeared on my doorstep.

"Anna-Maria!" He seemed as quirky as ever.

"Hello, Jack." I smiled. He was mad, I was certain of it, but he was good company. Well, if nothing else, he told interesting stories. That night, he showed particular intrest in my dingy. I figured it was just a bit of his weirdness comming out, so I ignored it and continued with everthing I needed to do for that day. I came back about an hour later and Jack was gone. Along with the _Jolly Mon_. He was dead in my book.

* * *

"Good enough for me." The man behind the counter said. I looked around the tavern where I was when I'd first heard my sister was gone. Jack had told me. I grimaced thinking about him. He was going to get it tomorow when I saw him. I picked up the pen and graced it across the pages._ Anna-Maria Z. Saldana.

* * *

_

I glanced down at the name and saw 'Anna-Maria' written in the blank. "It _was_ a woman..." I mumbled, pushing the paper back to the end of the table. I could deal with her tomorow. I sat patiently as the line shortened to less and less. Eventually there was no line at all. I stood up, collecting the papers, and walked toward the bar; I needed a drink. It had been a long night, and long nights like these often reminded me of things that had happened in my life that didn't need to be remembered. I sighed and gulped down my rum. It hardly lasted long enough...


End file.
